


Fool's Gold

by Wenzel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Clones, Espionage, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Instability, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Post season three
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wenzel/pseuds/Wenzel
Summary: Shiro is back, and Keith should be happy. Yet there's something wrong with Shiro, and the darkness he brings to the Castle threatens to swallow not just Keith, but the only remaining hope for defeating the Empire.(Post-S3 & Sheith/Keitor)





	1. Prologue

Shiro was back, and he should have been happy. When they sat down for meals, Shiro took a spot beside him, warm and painfully  _ real _ . They served each other food--Keith spooned out a bowl of soup for Shiro, and Shiro caught him eyeing a plate of canapes topped with foreign spices and meats. 

“You did well with the Black Lion,” Shiro said. “You’re figuring out the controls so fast.” He shook his head. His oddly shorn hair moved with the motion. Keith had to stop himself from reaching out to steady the tuft of white on his forehead. “Faster than I did.”

Keith smiled. The warmth that should have flooded him didn’t come. “I’ve had time with the Red Lion,” he said. Were the words stilted? Shiro didn’t comment, and Keith busied his hands by using his utensils to maul the food on his plate. Something deep in the back of his mind screamed at him that something was wrong, something was off, and that things would get worse if he didn’t stop it. 

Stop what, though? Shiro was back. When the meal ended, they moved to the command room. Lotor still needed to be tracked. While the teludav had been destroyed, Lotor’s ship would destroy most resistance in the universe. Worse, Voltron had yet to hit it, let alone win a fight. 

“We still need to find out why he wants quintessence,” Shiro said. 

Keith crossed his arms. “Shiro--”

“I know you want to fight him,” Shiro continued, “but to find him, we need to know his full plan. Whatever force brought Zarkon and Haggar back was after a way in, right?”

Allura nodded. “But Lotor seems far more calculating. He’s attacking his own forces for a plan I suspect the Empire knows nothing about. He wants more quintessence, but what will he do with it?”

“His own immortality,” Keith cut in. “More powerful weapons. If he can go from universe to universe with his new ship, he can gather more of that meteor ore. There are a hundred different things he could be doing--”

Shiro reached out and clasped his shoulder. “Temper, Keith.” Keith forced himself not to jerk away from Shiro’s touch. It was Shiro. Shiro was allowed to touch him. “But Keith has a point. With so many potential uses for what he wants, that’s all the more reason to avoid confrontation. Pidge, Hunk, Coran--can you do more sweeps of Galran computer systems? There might be intelligence left that we haven’t found.”

“It might be worth seeing if we can stage an infiltration,” Allura mused. “I can still shapeshift, and Keith has the ability to use Galran technology.”

Shiro nodded. “Keith, you’re with me. Allura, you can help Coran; Lance, you could probably use the time to get to know Red more.” Shiro smiled at Keith, tired and worn. “We should go talk to the Black Lion. We know a lot about Zarkon and Honerva now, but it might have more of an idea what this purple substance is that came through the rift.”

They left together. Lance jogged ahead, eager to talk to Red. Shiro didn’t touch Keith’s shoulder, or lean in until their shoulders almost brushed. Shiro spoke, but his words were casual and empty.

“Hunk’s gotten even better at using the food goo,” Shiro said and laughed. For all the warmth it had, something hollow had taken root in the sound. “I think I’m even starting to enjoy it.”

Keith hesitated before he inched closer to Shiro. The man radiated warmth, though Keith knew the nightmares he had. “We’ve had worse as rations,” Keith said, though he didn’t know if Shiro was listening. The man laughed again, though, and Keith forced a smile.

Shiro was back, yet Keith didn’t know what to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Something dark had settled behind his ribs. Cold as ice and solid as rock, it weighed down his stomach every moment outside of sleep. His mind refused to think about it. It was there. It was present. What mattered was learning the Black Lion’s controls. 

Slower than the Red Lion, the Black Lion favoured calculation and caution. When Keith took the controls, the fire that’d fuelled him inside Red only frustrated him and Black. “Forget what you know,” Shiro told him over the comlink. “You’ve seen me fly-- think on that.”

Keith shouldn’t have been in the pilot seat. The difficulty of relearning how to pilot poisoned his flying skills and snaked around the always-there thought that the Black Lion had made a mistake. Shiro knew what he was doing. Keith was extraneous-- he was a bargain bin Black Paladin, chosen in an emergency, and unlikely to ever be able to lead. He’d almost got everyone killed twice already. Why did everyone want him to take a third go at it?

“You’re getting better,” Coran told him in the hangar after the third practice session.

Keith had hunched over as he walked away. “Thanks,” he said, more from politeness than anything else. It was easy to get better when you were flush with the ground. The thoughts were horrible to think, he knew. There was no time to indulge in self-pity when he needed to learn how to not kill everyone. His second-guessing of the Black Lion served no one except the Galra. He needed to focus, restrain his temper, and keep trying.

But it was hard to forget everything he knew. He would juke right, and Shiro would come over the com to tell him he should have gone left. “You’re relying too much on instinct,” Shiro told him. “You have to think, and think fast. Don’t go on impulse.”

Keith was built on instinct, though. Everything he did came from snap decisions and the feeling that the choice was right. Shiro needed him to think like a chess master when he was a fighter. More than that, Shiro wanted him to make the tactical decisions for everyone. How could he track five Lions, four Paladins, and the enemy while figuring out his own situation? The amount of information that basic exercises brought almost overwhelmed him. In the Red Lion, his mind had melded against Red: there was only  _ one _ person to think for. 

The Black Lion demanded so much more, and it was belly aching to complain about, but he struggled to coordinate tactics. He’d make a choice he thought was right-- only for every person to second guess him. He didn’t begrudge them that. They wanted him to be the best Black Paladin he could be. But every exercise, he saw no improvement.  _ Pidge, take the right flank with Lance _ , he’d say as Galran fighters poured from the cruiser ahead.

_ The Blue Lion works best with Red _ , Shiro would say over the comlink. Keith would breathe, deep and steady, acknowledge, and then reroute his plans.

In the moments where he could breathe, he found himself at Shiro’s side. They went over reports together while Shiro’s shoulder pressed against him. Allura sat opposite, Coran at her own side.

“Puig will need more defense,” Shiro said. “They gave up easily to Lotor’s generals, and while I know why, it leaves our flank there open for attack.”

Puig had a piecemeal leadership. Every village had a lord, and every dozen lords their own king. Defending Puig would mean involving themselves in the planet’s politics. It was, at heart, a possible distraction. Keith said nothing. 

Allura nodded. “That area is very close to Galran space,” she said. She typed something down on the tablet in her lap. “It’ll be difficult to get agreement from the Puigians, but we can see what I can work out with them.”

“Having Voltron will help,” Keith said, just to say something. Allura smiled at him. Keith didn’t know what to do when he looked at Shiro and saw the man’s soft eyes. Something in him screamed run, but that made no sense. Shiro’s input was vital. What was the war effort without someone who’d been trained as an officer? 

That night, he found himself in Shiro’s bedroom. The man looked exhausted, and Keith invited him into bed. “I missed you,” he murmured when Shiro flopped down. He pet Shiro’s hair, carding his fingers through it. The new cut felt strange against his fingers. The close shave from before Shiro’s disappearance had revealed the warmth of Shiro’s skin. The hair now was far colder.

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.” Shiro pressed his cheek against the outside of Keith’s leg. “When you came, it was--” He sighed and laughed. “I thought I’d faced the end.”

“Not yet,” Keith said. “Not any time soon.” The words tasted bitter. “You know I’ll always come back for you.”

Shiro kissed his leg. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. It was looking pretty grim, though.”

Keith slid down from sitting and pressed close against Shiro. “I know. And you know what I mean when I say I’ll come back. If I’d known you were at the battle on Thacerix, I would have turned Voltron around.”

Arms wrapped around him. “I believe you.” Shiro kissed his neck, and Keith huddled in close. “I can feel the nightmares waiting. You’ll hold me through the night, won’t you?”

Keith rested his chin atop Shiro’s head. “I will,” he promised. Shiro drifted off to sleep slowly. Keith waited through the nightmares: they came in waves of frantic mumblings, thrashing, and tears. Keith whispered and soothed by word and touch. Sleep came for him in little fits. When the lights of the Castle brightened in a mockery of morning, exhaustion crushed him. Shiro’s eyes were bright, and his smile painfully genuine. 

“That’s the best sleep I’ve had since before Kerberos,” Shiro said, and every ounce of fatigue Keith felt was justified. 

He drowned the sleepiness in coffee, sweets, and quick naps stolen in the quiet moments between meetings. Shiro noticed his state with a quick promise to take care of the worst discussions. Keith managed to appear for a display of Voltron’s power. Cheering crowds watching the Lions dazzling displays of speed and coordination. The cheers turned to a deafening roar when the Lions formed Voltron. Exhaustion slowed Keith’s reaction time, but instinct carried him through. When the exhibition finished, Keith dragged himself back to the Castle. Shiro waited for Keith, his smile shining like the planet’s two suns.

“A bit slow,” Shiro said, “but your handling is amazing.” He looped an arm around Keith’s waist. Nobody was around to see as they exchanged a quick kiss. Any of Shiro’s requests for constant privacy had been forgotten in the dark of almost-death. Did Shiro still fear what could happen? 

They slept together again that night. Shiro’s nightmares crackled and snapped beneath the surface of sleep. Keith held him close and stared into the room’s darkness. Morning came too quick. 

“I’ll deal with the meetings,” Shiro promised as Keith yawned and rubbed at his eyes.

Keith blinked. The world took its time coming into focus, wobbling and fuzzy and tilted slightly askew. “Thank you,” he said and tried to smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update is the 14th! In the meantime, find me at the-wenzel.tumblr.com! <3


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you all right?” Allura asked after practice. “You seem… slower.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I mean no offense, of course, but I feel it a duty to make sure none of us overwork ourselves. We have enough battles with the Galra. Best we not make wars elsewhere.”

Keith pulled his helmet off. “I’m fine.” A splotch rested over Allura’s figure. He blinked until his vision rearranged itself to something normal. “Just stress from figuring out the Black Lion.” He should say something leader-like, he thought. “You’re learning how to work with Blue fast.”

That worked. Allura beamed at him. “She’s been very helpful!” Allura looked over at Blue, her smile turning fond. “Her mind is like the ocean’s warm tides. I feel like, when I’m with her, that my worries wash away. All that’s left is the need to help and a singular mind.” She shook her head, though her smile didn’t fade. “It’s an odd feeling but one I’m growing attached to.”

Working with Black reminded Keith of someone trying to redirect the winds. The Black Lion didn’t meld with him, nor did it reassure him. It weighed on him like gravity and threw him into the buffeting tempest.  _ Figure it out _ , the Lion seemed to say. 

Red had been more eager and understanding. She leapt at the chance to lunge into action. His impulses were encouraged, and she kept up with his snap decisions. Being the Red Paladin had been as natural as breathing. 

Why wouldn’t the Black Lion take Shiro back? Keith would be willing to step back from piloting if it meant that Voltron worked perfectly. Lance had proven himself a good Red Paladin. Allura had connected to Blue like few others had with their Lions. And then there was Keith. Compared to the others, he lumbered through the sky, dashed out plans that needed to be reworked on the fly, and inspired little confidence among those he met. 

He was tired. It was getting to him in the worst ways. If he was smart, he’d smile at Allura, praise her more, and then hurry from the hangar and try to get some rest before he spent time in the training room. So he did. Allura thanked him with her warm smile and they parted ways. Keith focused on not tripping over his feet as he roamed the halls. 

Meetings interrupted his attempt at a nap. “They’ll want to see the Black Paladin,” Coran said over a comlink. “You’re the big name of the Castle! Other than Allura, of course. So come in your armour and be sure to make a good impression.”

He dragged himself from bed, cobbled together his armour, and forced the last bit of energy inside him to guide his path to the meeting rooms. The Castle had what felt like a thousand floors. The elevators helped deal with it, but it was possible to travel a mile without finding a single one. 

“Black Paladin,” the dignitary said when they met at the meeting. Their eyestalks quivered, though Keith couldn’t tell if the reaction was natural or from excitement. “You humble us with your presence.”

Keith stared at the creature. “...Thanks.”

The eyestalks drooped before they turned to look at Allura. “Delax deeply wishes to ally itself with Voltron and the rising Altean Kingdom. We are unsure of your strength in battle, however. Thayserix is not easily forgotten.”

“It was a single mistake,” Keith said. Exhaustion turned his legs weak and his mind sluggish. “People were new to their Lions. We’ve learned better since.”

Allura nodded. She no longer wore her pink armour, but instead her formal dress. “The Black Paladin is correct. We have all learned better since the fight. Further confrontations with Prince Lotor have been far more productive.” She did a curtsey. “But come-- let us talk in more comfortable ways.”

The more comfortable ‘ways’ were at chairs around a table. Keith sat to Allura’s right. Opposite him, the Delaxian squatted on a strange stool. Its whip-thin body had four legs, all of which shuffled around for the creature to sit. When its rump touched the pillowed stool, it burped in what Keith thought was happiness.

Hours passed. Shiro was nowhere to be seen, and the only people in the room were him, the Delaxian, Allura, and Coran. Keith forced back a yawn thirty minutes into the talks. The Delaxian’s questions were incessant. “How long have you been Paladins?” it asked.  _ A year _ , Keith said. “You were the Red Paladin, yes?”  _ I was. _ “What happened to the last Black paladin?”  _ The Black Lion thought it time that I take the role of leader. _ “Do you agree with it?”

Keith refused to shift uneasily under the Delaxian’s scrutiny. “Yes,” he lied. “The Lions know us better than we do ourselves. I wouldn’t dare question its decision.” 

The Delaxian’s tongue flicked out of a square mouth and brushed over drying skin. “The legends do give the Lions strange abilities beyond weapons.” The dignitary hummed, the sound like a bee’s buzz and a cat’s purr. Keith assumed it was a Delaxian’s version of a sigh. “You understand our caution, don’t you?” Its eyestalks were split between Allura and Keith.

“Of course,” Allura said, ever the smooth-voiced diplomat.

Keith shrugged. “The Galra aren’t your friends.” All the eyestalks turned to him. His arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair, though he kept his head high. “You’ve seen what they do. I’ll answer your questions, but you know you’re the next Balmerans or Taujeer.”

“Prince Lotor’s promised--”

“Which means nothing.” Keith frowned at the Delaxian. “He’s killed his Empire’s own soldiers. He can’t even keep his word to his people. What makes you think he’ll ever care about promises to yours?”

The Delaxian deflated like a balloon. Keith stiffened. Should he apologize? Allura shook her head before speaking. “While the Black Paladin’s words are blunt,” she said, “they are right. Whatever Prince Lotor has promised you, it doesn’t matter. He will break his oath when it is convenient for him.”

“They say he’s different,” the Delaxian blubbered out. “That he wants the Empire to grow and meld together, with the Galra as the leaders, yes, but there’s  _ room _ for us--”

“There isn’t.” Keith ground his teeth. “There never is. He’s using you and your hope that you can avoid a war. You can’t. Lotor will fight you now when you turn against him, or later when he asks too much for your people to give. The only difference is that then you’ll be alone.”

The silence widened to a chasm. “Keith,” Allura said, “you should check on the other Paladins.”

The bottom of Keith’s stomach fell out. Had he fucked up? “Of course, Princess.” Keith stood and bowed to the Delaxian. “... Thank you for coming to the Castle to discuss this. It’s brave.” His eyes strayed to Allura, who gave him a nod and soft smile. He still couldn’t tell if he’d fucked up. Leaving the room didn’t help the ominous, dark feeling.

The other Paladins were scattered throughout the Castle, and Keith didn’t care to track them all down when his gait listed to the side, into walls and sharp corners. Halfway to his room, he gave up on walking. He ducked into a side room with a panel of glass that looked out onto the stars and planets below. 

A series of bleachers were arrayed around the window. Keith took a bottom one, close to the glass. His head fell back on the pillowy surface. “I think I fucked up,” he whispered. Guilt soured his stomach. If he’d made Allura’s job harder, he wouldn’t forgive himself. Allura had the duties of three people: an engineer and pilot, as an Altean princess and diplomat, and as the Blue Paladin. The last thing she needed was Keith having a tantrum at important meetings. He’d fucked things up majorly once before. He didn’t need to make it a habit.

HIs eyes had drifted closed when the door opened. He refused to stir, as though that would force the invader away. “Keith?” Shiro called out.

Keith jerked back to reality. “I’m here!” He tried to stagger to his feet, but sleep paralyzed his lower body. It left Shiro to come to him. “Sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes. “What is it?”

“Allura told me you were looking tired,” Shiro said. He strolled down to Keith’s row and took a seat beside him. “Are you okay?”

Keith forced back a jaw-cracking yawn. “Just sleepy.” Shiro frowned, and Keith shook his head. “It’s passing. I think I might be coming down with something. Space flu.”

“So long as it isn’t the slippies,” Shiro said. He reached out and touched Keith’s shoulder. “Are you sure it isn’t me? I don’t want to disturb you.” 

The sorrow in Shiro’s eyes stabbed him like a knife. “It’s not anything like that. I’ve been sleeping just fine.”

“Good.” Shiro reached up to cup Keith’s chin. “Your eyes are really bright today.” He leaned in and kissed Keith on the forehead. “I’ll deal with the rest of the meetings.”

It wasn’t a question. Somehow, sometime, the question mark had been edited out of Shiro’s vocabulary. “I’m fine,” Keith said. He pulled away from Shiro, whose hand didn’t withdraw. “I can do my job, Shiro.”

Shiro’s face fell. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Keith said. “I know, and that just makes it worse.” He slumped in on himself. “I’m sorry. I’m just-- tired and sick. I don’t know why I said that.” 

Shiro reached out to touch his shoulder, and then drifted to Keith’s neck and rubbed. “It’s okay. You’re really stressed.” Shiro sighed. “Come with me. We can go rest together, and you’ll feel better.” Keith stood. Shiro mirrored him, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist. “You’ll be okay,” Shiro murmured.

Keith doubted that. He followed Shiro, though, and when the quiet of their room wrapped around them, Keith found himself staring at the ceiling. It was just exhaustion, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update's the 18th! Find me at the-wenzel.tumblr.com in the meantime. <3


	4. Chapter 4

Exhaustion meant nothing now. Every limb dragged itself through a molasses of fatigue. Sleep, despite his body’s hunger for it, did not come easy. It arrived in little clouds that fogged his mind until the sunshine of life burned it away. There were a hundred duties to attend to. People noticed.

“Hey, uh,” Lance said as he passed through the hangar. “Looking a bit living dead there. Might be time to take a nap.”

Pidge noticed when he’d pick up reports from her. “You look like a raccoon,” she told him. “If you need some time off, Shiro’s probably good to give you a break.”

“I’m fine,” he said, forced a smile, and hurried away. When Hunk saw him, he braced himself for offers of food and a talk, because Hunk--unlike many of the other Paladins--could talk about emotional issues.

“You’re stressed,” Hunk said, “and it’s showing. You need to take some time for yourself. We could watch a movie, you know. You could even doze--”

“I’m fine,” he said again, as though that would ward off any concerns.  _ I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine _ . 

“I can give you some old Altean medicines to help you sleep,” Coran offered. He could only be escaped by running when his back was turned.

Allura’s proposal came as the gentlest. “If you need rest,” she told him, “all you need do is ask. I cannot force you to bed, and I have no desire to, but I need you to be ready to face a war.”

Letting Shiro take over some of his duties would be the smart thing. Shiro knew what to do: he’d trained for it, he was clever, and he had a better temperament for diplomacy anyway. Keith himself had, before the Black Lion’s refusal, offered Shiro his seat back. What had changed?

The easy answer discomforted him. Shiro had. The man was more demanding, more aggressive, and far more stilted when they were alone. What had been easy kisses and warm laughter had become the weight of the stars on his shoulders. Shiro asked for things Keith didn’t know how to give, yet they were things he’d never asked for before. 

Did anyone else suspect? Hunk had known Shiro only through newspapers. Lance had seen him from afar a few times. Allura had known him only after Kerberos, just like Coran. People had told Pidge stories about Shiro, but those were always filtered through the viewpoint of someone who admired Shiro before anything else. Hearing about Shiro’s piloting skills didn’t have any bearing on what Shiro dreamt of, or how he felt about those around him.

Keith knew Shiro more than anyone else on the Castle. And when he sat beside the man and spoke to him, something deep inside Keith screamed that something had gone wrong. Somewhere between the battle with Zarkon and the Black Lion finding him, something far beyond hair length had changed for Shiro. The man’s face looked the same, but the kisses he gave and the words he spoke were alien. 

So what should Keith do? He agonized over it. Confronting Shiro would bring denials, and if Keith saw ghosts where only the living dwelled, he’d hurt Shiro beyond words. Keith’s current state didn’t help matters: wild-eyed, exhausted, and stressed, people would dismiss any accusations. He’d be forced to rest as Shiro took over Keith’s duties.

“Do we have anything on the ship that had Shiro on it?” he asked Pidge when they were alone once.

Pidge’s brows furrowed. “Not much? It hasn’t been the priority. Do you want to make it one?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” Keith brushed at his tablet’s screen. They were sterile and clean, but it gave him something to do. “We should figure out how he got into the hands of the Galra. If it was the Black Lion who teleported him, I want to know sooner rather than later.”

Pidge snorted. “Yeah, best we not lose you too. It was a miracle Shiro got to us in the first place.” She typed up what he assumed was a note to herself. “I’ll see what I can find in communications. If they found him in the debris after the battle, they’ll likely have said  _ something _ to their commanding officers.”

He thanked her and left to read the reports. He still had no answer for what he should do. Pidge would find something--she always did--but what could he do while he waited? He didn’t even know what was wrong with Shiro. There were a dozen different options. Maybe he’d been brainwashed. Maybe the Galra had tortured him, and the suppressed trauma had worsened his mental state. Maybe he’d been replaced by a shapeshifter. There was no way to know for certain. The tests he could do would hurt Shiro, and the idea of hurting Shiro cut deep.

He settled, in the end, on a single, lone bug stolen from the Castle’s engineering floors. He’d used them before to track Lotor. The one he took this time was the size of a pinky nail and a gunmetal grey. It recorded for hours, which was good because he didn’t know if or when Shiro visited his room outside of sleep.

He didn’t go to Shiro’s room. Instead, he read the reports and tried to talk himself into the courage to bug Shiro’s room. He knew the reasons not to. Doing it betrayed Shiro’s trust, even if Keith found something wrong. It set a terrible precedent on how personal problems on Team Voltron would be handled. He sat there and tried to think, but his mind preferred to wander and wobble between thoughts, until all it could focus on was guilt.

He hated it. He was tired of feeling guilty and tired of being tired. Failure had become a casual feeling to him, and panic had dulled to a constant, distant screeching. But guilt and exhaustion still harried him like hounds, and they pained him far more than anything else.

Leaving the bug in Shiro’s room hurt. He didn’t know what else to do, or who to ask. He went to supper with the other Paladins and forced a smile that nobody--not even Shiro--questioned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update is the 27th! Thank you everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Find me at the-wenzel.tumblr.com. :3


End file.
